


Unrealized Depths

by Elven_Fforestydd



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Avengers Family, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Thor (Marvel), Protective Tony Stark, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team Bonding, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elven_Fforestydd/pseuds/Elven_Fforestydd
Summary: "He felt fake. Who was he kidding? He wasn't Captain America, he was just a boy from Brooklyn."Steve Rogers is struggling to fit into a new century and a new identity. When he is injured in a mission after an accident his new world comes crashing down around him and threatens to tear about all the small progress he has made.Set after the 1st Avengers and the Battle of New York. Will probably sway away from canon. There is no Slash.
Comments: 32
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

Steve waited in the elevator as it rose up the floors. He wiped his head of the sweat. Even though there was a gym in the building. Steve still liked to get out to run. There was something freeing about running and watching the world pass by. Ever since he was injected with the serum he found he loved running. 

The doors opened into the living room. He straightened up, throwing his shoulders back and brushing off the mild look of tiredness from his face. He strolled out of the elevator. 

“Hey Cap.” A friendly voice said. 

Steve looked up. It was Natasha. She was perched on the edge of the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand.  
“Hello,” he muttered.  
“There is fresh coffee.” She said. She always made a point to try and include him.  
“I’m alright. Thanks.” He walked down the hall. 

Natasha turned to Bruce who was reading something on his tablet. “He’s still that stiff?” She asked.  
“What?” Bruce looked up, obviously, he hadn’t noticed. “Cap, he’s like a robot.” “I haven’t noticed,” Bruce said.  
“I don’t spend a lot of time with him.” “I don’t think anybody does,” Natasha said.  
She finished her cup of coffee and got up. “Do you want a refill?” Bruce shook his head.  
“No. I can’t let the Other Guy get too much caffeine. Then he’s really mean.” Natasha laughed.

It was a few months after the Battle of New York. The city still looked like a battle zone. Stark Tower had been mostly destroyed. Emphasis on the mostly. Several floors were still intact and Stark had already gotten to work designing and upgrading the rest. The remaining floors were turned into living quarters and offered to the Avengers. They all accepted. However, they weren’t always around a lot, particularly in the beginning. Everyone had things to take care of that had been interrupted when the Aliens invaded. Everyone that is except Steve Rogers. 

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go and anything to do. When he was woken up, Shield had provided a small apartment. Somehow, it was one of the many buildings that had been destroyed in the attack. 

Steve spent most of the days alone. He would go for runs around the city and explore every it had changed. He hadn’t wanted to go to Brooklyn though. He wasn’t ready for that. He got along alright with most of the Avengers. They were polite enough to each other. 

Stark was another story. He actively avoided Tony Stark. He couldn’t stand the man. He was disrespectful in just about every way. If he didn’t have a piece of highly efficient technology and a brain to match he’d be no better than the jocks that Steve dealt with in high school. 

They didn’t get along and that was alright. On a mission, he made comment after comment about Steve’s uniform and how tight it was. “How do you even get out of that thing? Its skin tight.” Another day he had asked in front of everyone if Steve was still a virgin. “It's none of your business.” He started firmly before walking away, leaving Stark laughing and still cracking jokes. 

When the others stopped by or were called in for a mission Steve would spend just enough time to be polite. On a mission, he did the responsibility to lead. It kept him busy. It kept him from thinking too much. Otherwise, he wanted to be alone. Steve didn’t want to be friends with anyone. He had already lost everyone he knew once and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. 

A lot had changed since the 1940s, but he hadn’t. To him, it had only been a few months. 

**************************

Two days later Steve found himself with Stark on a mission. Shield had sent them into a hostage situation that had grown out of control. Some international diplomats had been kidnapped while visiting the US. They were being held by an old abandoned shipyard on the river. Fury didn’t want the Feds to deal with it but figured that Steve and Stark could handle it without much problem. 

Steve wasn’t thrilled about being on a solo mission with Stark. He was currently sitting in the back of the quinjet, blasting loud music and air drumming to it. He called it Black Sabbath. Steve called it noise. 

“We are five minutes out.” The pilot called from the cockpit. “What?” Said Steve over the top of the music. “We are five minutes out.” The pilot said again. “Suit up!” Stark said, flipping down his visor. Stark jumped from the quinjet, the music suddenly stopped. The arrogance with this guy. Steve thought. Was everything a show to him? Steve caught the pilot’s eyes. He shrugged. Within minutes they had landed several miles outside of the shipyard. 

It was pouring down rain. It had been for two days now. The rivers everywhere were up and brown. Several floods had already broken records and the rain did show any signs of stopping.

Steve hopped down. “Stay out of sight.” He told the pilot before he took off running towards the shipyard. “The perimeter is clear.” Stark’s voice came through the intercom.  
“You want to come to join the rest of the team?” Steve said back, emphasizing team, a word that was foreign to Stark.  
“Yeah yeah. I’m coming to hold your hand.” Stark dropped down, landing next to them. “Feel better old man?” He asked reaching for Steve’s hand. Steve pulled it away. 

The mission was simple, find the diplomats and try to avoid too much destruction. In Theory, it should be easy. 

They made their way closer. They didn’t seem to run into anyone. The shipyard was empty. It had been a while since any ship had docked here. “I am picking up heat temperatures in that warehouse,” Stark said. Steve headed in that direction. 

They reached the door, still without encountering anyone. Steve carefully opened the door. It was empty. Silent inside. The warehouse was in obvious disrepair. The rain was pouring in through the gaping house on the floors above. Parts of the floor were open to the bank and river outside. 

“Charming place, even if the decor is a bit outdated.” Said Stark breaking the silence.  
“Is that really important?” Muttered Steve. 

“Seriously, don’t you ever lighten up?”  
Steve didn’t answer. 

“I think it might do you good. Maybe make you more approachable."  
Stark drummed his hands on Steve’s back. Steve tried to ignore it. 

“I know a great way to start. Maybe smile a bit more?” Stark walked in front of Steve, walking backward to continue the conversation. Steve couldn’t see Stark’s face behind the Ironman mask, but he knew it was smirking. 

What was with this guy? Why couldn’t he just focus on the task at hand? Steve thought. That was why they were there. To fix the problem. That is what they did. Fix problems. 

Suddenly there was gunfire. They had been lying in wait. Both men sprung into action. Stark up and Steve down. He dropped and roll, smashing into one of the firemen. Easily he punched him out before turning on another. There was only a handful of them. The men made quick work of the few shooters in the main warehouse. 

“Well that was a nice warm-up,” Stark said. “Five bucks that there are a few more behind that door.” He blasted the door open. When the smoke clear bullets shot out. “Oh look, I owe myself five dollars.”  
Why did he have to show off so much? Steve wondered.  
“Draw them out, I’m going to find the hostages,” Steve said in the com.  
“Sure thing Cap. Give them a nice kiss for me.” Said Stark.  
“I'm going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Growled Steve before he pushed through the gunfire and through the door. 

Steve fought his way through the door. It turned out to be a staircase.  
“I thought you said they were back here?” Steve called  
“Never said that buttercup,” Stark said. “Meet you at the top.” He called. Steve started running up the stairs. 

Along the way he ran into a few more men with guns, but made short work of them, easily overpowering them. He felt a deep rumble and the ground began to shake. What was that? Surely it wasn’t an earthquake. He kept moving. “Watch your step.” He heard Stark say. “This whole place is unstable. The bank looks to have washed away.” 

Steve sprinted the last few stairs to the top floor. He kicked the door down.  
“Stay calm everyone,” Steve announced. He was met with gunfire. 

Stark came flying back in. “Miss me?”  
“Where are the hostages?” Yelled Steve. 

“No idea. Maybe in that crane?”  
“Seriously? Don’t you have heat scanning?”

“Yeah, but it can’t tell who is a hostage and who is a man in a mask. You being one of them.”  
Ironman grabbed another man with a gun and flung him upwards. 

Steve noted the crane Start was talking about. He ran towards it. He lunged himself out the window at it. Grabing the side he pulled himself up, his hands slipping slightly in the rain. Gunfire rained down. A man stuck his head out and dropped a pipe. Steve hit it away. It passed him and landed by the base. A moment later it exploded. There was a deep rumbling as the whole crane shook. 

“A pipe bomb? Seriously? I’m embrasured to be here.” Said Stark. He flew past Steve and crashed through the roof. A moment later he slammed through the window and carrying a screaming man with him. 

There was a deep rumbling as the whole crane shook. It began to tilt. Steve had to hurry. He pulled himself up and into the window. 

The diplomats there were four of them were there. They were blindfolded and guarded by a single man. Stark was right. This was amateur hour. Steve engaged the man and quickly knocked him out. He started to untie the diplomats who were spewing thanks. 

“Stark, you’re gonna need to fly these guys out.” Said Steve. 

The crane began to rumble again. Steve looked out the window. The pipe bomb had exploded near the base that was already decentered do the recent floods and rain. 

Stark flew in through the window. “Need a lift?” He asked. He scooped up a diplomat and darted out the window. 

“Come on.” Said Steve the other others. He got them up. The crane shifted again. Stark swooped back in. “Next.” He said.  
“Stay here.” He told the others. He needed to stabilize the crane. 

He jumped out the window, landing hard on the ground. The crane was quickly sinking into the soft ground. He looked around for a way to prevent it. 

The river was extremely high and his footing was unstable. A bullet whizzed past him and bounced off the side of the crane. They had missed someone. Turning quickly he used his shield to deflect the gunfire. There was a man a few yards away, soaked and too close to the river. As Steve advanced the man backed up. He lost his footing and fell into the river. Quickly he was swallowed up in the swell of brown water. 

Steve turned back just as the crane began to tilt. It was falling. In slow motion. He pushed against it, trying to right it. His feet were slipping in the mud. Suddenly he lost his footing as the crane came crashing down around him. 

********

Steve tried to protect himself as the crane fell around him. He slipped back towards the river and landed hard on a rock. A piece of the crane landed hard on him. He felt a sickening sudden pain in his leg and side. A moment of haziness came over him as the rest of the crane fell. 

When he was able to open his eyes and look around he found himself surrounded by what was left of the crane. He was trapped beneath the broken metal rubble, his body in an awkward position. He started to pull against the crane and cried out in sudden pain.

He looked down and saw that a piece of metal had lodged itself into his exposed leg. He pushed harder with his arms, trying to get free, but his body kept slipping in the mud. Each time he pushed against the metal he managed to push himself deeper into the mud and closer to the roaring river. 

His body burned against the weight of the steel. What's the point of having super strength. He thought.  
“Stark” he tried on his com. "I could really use your help. It was met with silence. He reached to his ear and found his ear empty. It had fallen out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve struggles with the raging water and an impending sense of Panic.

Water rushed along the river. The weight of the crane slowly sliding through the mud, closer and closer to the river. Most of the crane was submerged in the river and it was taking Steve with him. The roaring river was load in Steve's ears. His heart beat faster. He needed to move now! He thought. He pushed against the iron trapping him, straining. “Stark!” He yelled. 

He tried to pull his leg from beneath the rubble. The attempt only made him cry out as a sharp pain gyrated up into his torso. There was definitely some bruising happening there if not a broken bone or two. He pushed against the iron again, nothing happened. 

He was dizzy. The sound of the water was growing louder. He was trapped and in the direct line of the water. 

Panic began in his stomach. No! Steve strained harder. He put his whole body into it, ignoring it screaming for him to stop. His leg was burning. His eyes were foggy and the panic had risen into his throat. His breathing shallow and quick. He was trapped. He erratically kicked his free leg against the crane, not noticing the pain anymore. 

Steve managed to slide his hands under the metal trapped against his chest. He threw what little strength he had left at it, the muscles in his arms straining. He ignored the black spots forming at the end of his vision. 

The crane began to move. Then it was moving too fast, caught in the mud. Steve’s hands slipped as the crane moved. At the lack of resistance, the crane crashed against his left hand, crushing it against the rock. 

He let out a cry as new pain resonated through his hand. The crane continued to sink into the mud, closer to the river, sucking his lower body with it, into the river. 

The water rushed over him. He could see his own blood being washed away, swirling with the murky brown. He tried to breathe in, gasping for air between his short sharp breaths.

Breath. I need to breathe and then I can get out of here. He thought I’m Captain America Damit. This is nothing. It didn’t make him feel better. If anything he felt fake. Who was he kidding? He was just a boy from Brooklyn. 

The water tugged at him. He could feel himself slipping further into the water. He grasped at the rock behind him, searching for something to hold on to. His fingers kept slipping against the slick rock.

Water was streaming across his chest now, pounding and pressing him further against the rock. Steve froze, struggling to breathe. Struggling to think. His body was pinned. 

Then he snapped and thrashed wildly, without reason, pulling, trying to anything that would prevent the water. The water continued to rise. It was nearly at his neck. 

He tried to breathe in. He needed a big breath. He could get out if he could just get a breath. He thought. He couldn’t get the breath. It was coming in small stints. Water submerged him completely, reaching up to his neck. Steve pulled at his panic. At the rocks. At anything. 

“St..Sta.” He tried to call out. The words got stuck in his mouth, unable to form past the blind panic that had set in. It was happening again.  
No. No no no..” 

************************

Stark was just pulling the last diplomat out of the crane as it began to fall. He had heard gunfire a moment ago but knew that Cap could handle a lone gunman. He hoisted the trembling man, who was a bit overweight and flew with him out the window. 

The Diplomat was struggling. “Seriously man. Hold still. I’m not going to drop you.” Said Tony. He shot up into the air and did a flip, just to freak the man out before landing a distance away, disposing of the man with the other diplomats. 

“Okay Cap. Everyone is out.” He called in the com. He was met with silence. 

It took only a few passes and scans to identify the heat source that had to be Steve. He was by the riverbank. Tony flew over. Beneath him was a tangle of mud and metal. He couldn’t see the solider from the air, everything was too brown. 

The water in the river was moving quickly and it seemed, pulling parts of the bank with it. Tony lowered himself down, hovering over the mess, scanning for Steve. He saw a thrashing arm, clawing at the rocks and his face.

Steve’s face was just barely above the water. “Shit!” Said Tony. This was not good. He thought. “Hang on Rogers.” He grabbed the struggling soldier and tried to pull him up. Steve let out a shriek. Tony let go, Steve was too tightly lodged. Steve stopped struggling. He lay frozen, staring at the water that was rushing past his chest. There was fear in his eyes. 

Tony was glad he had water-sealed his suit. He plummeted into the water to analyze the metal. He tried to move one of the beams, but with the force of the water, it was too heavy. He’d have to cut Steve out. 

Tony used the laser in his arm to cut at the steal. He glanced over, Steve was now completely underwater. He was thrashing. Not fast enough. Tony thought. He turned the power-up. The metal gave way. He pushed it aside. 

Tony scooped Steve up under the arms and launched into the sky. Moments into the air Steve sucked in a huge breath, gasping for air. It started Tony, causing him to almost drop the man. 

“Whoah man, hang on.” Steve’s eyes flew open. They were wide. A moment later he went limp again. Though his breathing was still ragged and short. 

Tony landed near where he had dropped the diplomats. The jet had already met them and the diplomats were safely loaded in. Tony carried Steve over. The pilot came running out. Tony walked past him. He carefully laid the Captian on the ground. He scanned his vital signs. He was alive though there were more broken bones than he wanted to count. No wonder he couldn’t breathe. 

It was then that he noticed his leg, seeping with blood. When did this happen? He thought. The wound was open at one end as if torn away from the body. Steve’s suit was clinging around the wound in a way that hid the worst of the damage. 

Tony hit the button that removed his gloves. He took his visor off. “Bandage.” He barked at the pilot who scurried back into the jet in search of first aid. 

Tony reach down and tried to pull part of the suit away from the wound. Steve jerked violently at the touch. “Hey, hey, Cap. Calm down. “ He said, not sure that Steve could hear him. The pilot returned with the first aid kit. Tony tore it open. He needed to stop this blood quickly before he lost too much. Super Solider or not, it was not a pretty sight. 

He pulled out a syringe filled anesthetics from the kit. “You aren’t gonna like this Spangles,” he said. He pulled a pair of tweezers and scissors from the first aid kid. As carefully as he could he pulled away from the suit by the part of the leg that had more flesh. The suit was tight and t caked in blood. 

Steve let out a cry of pain but didn’t wake up. He trashed. Tony beckoned to the pilot. He needed pressure on Steve now or this was going to be a lot harder. It was an easy ask, but not so easy to accomplish. 

Even in this state, Steve’s strength was easily a match for the pilot. The weight against his leg, however, seemed to calm him down for a moment. Tony quickly used the scissors and cut away a section of the suit to expose skin. He injected the anesthetic into the skin, careful to hold down Steve’s thrashing leg. There, that should help the pain. 

Not wanting to wait, he cut away the rest of the suit from the wound. The wound was definitely a tear. How did he? Tony felt his heart skip at the same moment his stomach dropped. 

He hadn’t checked to make sure Steve was fully free before he pulled him out. What if he had been pinned down in more ways than one. He looked down at the still bleeding leg wound again, this time with a new sick feeling in his stomach. He had caused this. 

“Sir.” The pilot said. Tony didn’t hear him. “Sir.” The pilot said again. “Oh, right.” Said Tony numbly. He took the bandage and started to wrap it. 

He tied it tight. Steve’s face was an ash color, pale and un-life like. “We need to go now,” Tony said, pushing the pilot aside. He picked Steve back up and carried him into the jet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up while traveling home from the mission.

There was a soft light. Steve’s eyes moved slightly under his closed eyelids. For a moment he felt calm. He felt safe. He didn’t want to open his eyes. Everything was okay if he just kept them closed. 

A chill spread across his body. Suddenly he remembered. There was water. Lots of water, it was fast and rising above his head. Steve felt the air restricted in his chest. He tried to grab a deep breath. He couldn’t grasp it. He was running out of air. His eyes flew open, wide and wild. He clawed at his face, trying to tear away the water that had covered him. His heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t breathe. 

He didn’t feel the hands on him. “Cap’.” Said the voice. “I need you to breath.” The voice said. Steve couldn’t hear it. Only water. He couldn't get the water away from his mouth. It was filling his lungs. “I’m giving you a sedative,” The voice said again. There was a sharp quick pain in his neck. 

Steve suddenly felt sleepy. No! He thought. It was happening again. He was drowning. He was sinking. His thoughts and mind turned black as he lost consciousness. 

**********************

Tony let out a sigh of relief as the man sunk back into sleep, his body ceased its thrashing and his breathing returned to the steady rhythm. 

They were still on the Quinjet. Traveling back to Shield headquarters. The diplomats, sitting quietly, wrapped in their own shock blankets, had watched the whole thing. When Tony looked over at them, they all looked away. "I wouldn't mention this," Tony said to them. 

Thankfully Steve had remained sedated until just recently. During his thrashing, he managed to throw himself enough that the bandage with showing signs of fresh red seeping through. “How close are we?” Tony called to the pilot. “Just under an hour sir.” Responded the pilot. An hour? Tony thought. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t wake up again before he got medical care. 

They were a few miles away from the base when Tony heard a mumbled groaning. He looked down at Steve and saw that his eyes were open again. He wasn't thrashing around this time. That wasn’t long enough. Tony thought. “Welcome back.” He said. Breaking the silence. Steve didn’t look at him. He continued to stare up at the roof. “Did you have a good sleep?” Tony asked. “I tried to prevent bed head, but well, it didn’t work.” 

Steve remained silent, never taking his eyes away. Tony was uncomfortable with the silence. The silence was where the unwanted thoughts arose. Tony made jokes in silence and filled it with ramblings. Even when he was alone. Hell, he had invented a computer system to talk to so that it was never silent. 

Steve suddenly started to breathe quickly again. It was short and choppy like before. “Cap.” Tony said, crouching down next to him. “Come on, breath with me.” Steve continued to stare at the ceiling, his breathing shaky.

Tony watched the man. His face was pale, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Steve’s jaw was locked, his face tormented in fear. It looked nothing like the face of Captain America that Tony knows. Instead, it looked like just a normal man in pain. It was very unsettling. Tony suddenly felt very under-qualified. “I’m going to knock you out again Cap.” He said. He reached for the dispenser. Steve’s hand caught his arm, his grip was a vice. “No.” He muttered. 

Tony let go, backing up. He sat back down in his seat. The silence settles again. For the rest of the trip, they remain this way, Tony monitoring the no longer sleeping Captain, and Steve, staring, wide dilated eyes locked up. 

**************

Steve stared at the ceiling. He was watching as a strap swayed gently back and forth. Its movement was steadying. It moved a few seconds to the right, then a few seconds back to the left. He had counted. Three right, three left. It was a bit fast but he could line his breath up with it. Three in, three out. His breath was still sharp, but at least he felt like he could breathe. He hadn’t been engulfed in fear the moment he woke up this time. 

This wasn’t the way that Captain America reacted in a situation. This was the reaction of Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. He was supposed to have rescued those diplomats, and instead, they watched him thrash around like an idiot, clawing the air like he was drowning. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. He knew Tony was watching him, but Steve refused to look away from the ceiling. If he closed his eyes he could feel the fear rising in his throat. Focus on the ceiling. He thought. Three in, Three out. 

He didn’t want to pass out again. He needed to make sure no one else was witness to this mess. He couldn’t lose control again. He had no control in his sleep. He only had control when he focused. Captain America was focused. No one could find out that he was scared of water. He couldn’t have anyone find out that he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself or anyone for that matter. Three in, Three out. 

****************  
Right before they landed Steve muttered something, his eyes still on the ceiling. “What was that?” Asked Tony, moving closer again. “Don’t tell anyone about today,” Steve said quietly. The Quinjet began to descend. They would be greeted by doctors upon their arrival. Tony had called ahead. “I can’t lie about the blood,” Tony said flatly. “Not that.” Said Steve. “This.” Tony stared at him. His face was ashen and his breath shaking. “Not sure that’s the best idea Spangles,” Tony said. “No.” Steve said with surprising force. “Don’t tell anyone.”

When they landed, Steve struggled to get up. Tony rose to help him but Steve pushed him away and pulled himself onto his legs, holding the side. As soon as he let go and put weight on his leg he stumbled. His face contorted in pain. Tony caught him. “Easy there, let me help me.” Tony Said. “I don’t need your help.” Growled Steve. 

My help? Does he know about the leg?” Tony wondered. He felt suddenly guilty. Steve held himself against the railing. Tony watched his face. Slowly it went from frightened and in pain, to hidden, shoved behind the familiar the stoic. Amazingly, Tony realized, he was watching as the face of Steve Rogers was compartmentalized and forced behind that of Captain America. 

The door opened. Several people were ready and waiting. Doctors rushed on, making their way to Steve. He brushed them off. “Make sure they are all right.” He commanded. Captain America’s full presence was felt. The doctors rushed off to check the diplomats. Steve waited patiently as they were offloaded. Finally, a doctor approached him and offered him a supporting shoulder “Thank’s doc.” Said Steve. 

There wasn’t an ounce of pain in his voice. It had been concealed behind the smooth, calm voice of Captain America. Tony thought that he was a master manipulator of masks, but watching Steve push aside help and direct attention from his pain made him question if he even knew the man at all. 

“I just need rest. We have staff at the tower.” Steve said. “Absolutely not.” Said the doctor. “You need care.” Steve tried again. “Of course Ma’am. But as I said, there is staff at the tower.” He tried to take a step forward and his leg crumbled beneath him. He would have hit the ground hard if Tony hadn't caught him. Steve wasn’t aware of any of it. He had passed out again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up alone in a hospital.

The world was hazy, fluctuating in and out of Steve’s awareness. His eyes fluttered open. The light was bright and flickering. One moment Steve was slightly lucid and aware of being pushed down a hallway, bodies surrounding him. They were very close and speaking, but his ears were only hearing noise. 

His entire body felt broken, a sharp heat radiating from his thigh, chest, and hand. There was pain was everywhere. He could make out the steady beeping of a heart monitor. It didn’t match up with his own heart. It was off by a few seconds. His body grew heavy again, his eyelids impossible to hold open. The hallway and all his senses disappeared into darkness. 

Steve couldn’t breathe. He was inhaling sharply, gasping for air. His lungs were on fire. It felt like there was something on his face, clinging over his mouth with each breath. He was running out of air. He clawed at his face, his fingers trying to free his mouth. His fingers met nothing, only his flesh. They dug in, his nails tore at the skin, struggling to find air. 

His body arched with each gasping inhale. His eyes flew open, wide and unfocused. Panic filled his body, rising until it felt like bursting from him, except he couldn’t get any sound out, just a harsh gasping sound. 

The door to the room was thrown open. Several nurses that were monitoring him came running in. They reached to restrain him before he threw himself from the bed. It took the whole strength of two additional doctors to hold him down. 

Steve continued to thrash, clawing. The doctor grabbed his good hand, holding it against the man's heaving and arching chest. Steve kept pulling at the restraint with each breath. The other hand, wrapped in a bandage was failing just as much. A nurse carefully restrained it before he did more damage. 

Steve felt trapped. He pulled at his arms. The weight pushed down harder. A fire radiated out of his left hand, shooting pain up his arm. He must be drowning and the weight of the water was crushing down on him. His whole body screamed for air. He needed air. He was dying. He was dying again. He thought. This couldn’t happen again. He stopped, back and body frozen in an arched position, tight. 

“He’s not breathing.” Said the doctor. “We need oxygen now.” An oxygen mask was forced onto Steve’s face, his eyes still unblinking and frozen in terror. The machine was turned on. Slowly the air made its way through the tube and into the struggling man’s lungs. A doctor gave several hard pushes on Steve’s chest. Steve coughed harshly and gasped. 

With each sharp inhale, a bit more air entered his body. With each small breath, Steve felt a slight give. The breath was less harsh. Easier. He was able to breathe out again. Then in. Out. 

Slowly the film around his mouth began to dissolve as his breathing became steady. His body relaxed, going limp against the bed. His eyes focused for a moment before tears flooded them. He squeezed them shut, the tears being forced from them. He wasn’t crying. He thought. This was just a reaction to the pain. Which was bearable. He just needed to wake up and heal. 

There were voices around him. He couldn’t make them out. He was losing his sense of self, of time, and slipping back into darkness. No! He tried to whisper, his voice getting caught between the oxygen mask and his throat. He couldn’t fall asleep again. He needed to wake up again. 

The heart monitor slowed down. Matching as his heart returned to a slower pace. Three seconds off. He struggled to keep his eyes open. They had a will of their own, and soon he lost consciousness. 

“He’s passed out.” Said the nurse who was monitoring his oxygen. “His vitals are returning to normal again.” The doctor holding his arms, slowly released them, moving away from the sleeping man. “We are going to need to restrain him, in case this happened again. I don’t think the Serum is going to let any drug keep him under long enough.” 

*****************

When Steve woke the next time it was quiet. For a moment he lay, eyes closed. He felt calm. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he was afraid of running this moment of safety. As he lay, the haze in his mind cleared a little. 

He could stay like this for a while, Except, for the annoying hum the fluorescent lights were making. They were flickering against his closed eyelids. Since waking up in the 21st century Steve had come to learn how much he hated them, much preferring the daylight bulbs. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes closed anymore. Slowly they opened. He was on his back, the ceiling white. I’m in a hospital? Steve thought. He tried to recall the last memories he had. It was a blur of what he assumed was pain medication and drowsiness. 

Where was he before? The mission. He thought. He had been on a mission with Tony. Suddenly memories flooded into his mind. The crane. The rising river. 

His body was filled with a start as he remembered the crushing feeling of the water and the gasping. Oh god, he had been drowning. He felt a deep chill resonate throughout his body. He needed to get up. 

Steve tried to sit up. He was met with resistance. For the first time, he noticed that a strap was across his chest, holding him to the bed. His one arm was also tied down, the left one suspended in a sling. His left hand was bandaged with a metal contraption sticking out from under the wrapping. 

He started at the sight of his leg, bandaged and locked. Why was he tied down? Was he captured? Is that why the room was empty? Surely the rest of the team would have been around? Unless…. He forced the thought away. He’d slept too long. He had to have been here against his will. This had to be HYDRA. 

He pulled at the restarts. They were strong and he was still reeling from the medications he had been given. What had he been given? He thought, trying to push down the panic that was slowly rising. He needed answers. 

He pulled forcibly with his right hand at the restraint. The whole bed rattled against the force. It ripped itself from the bed. His arm trembling Freeing his right hand he started to unattached his left hand. Impatient at how slow it was taking he began to pull, not caring or noticing the pain moving his hand caused. 

All he could think about was the need to get out. He was feeling trapped, the crushing weight of panic taking control. His left hand freed, Steve turned his attention to removing the tube from his nose. He inhaled sharply as he pulled. It burnt!

Steve’s body was protesting the sudden moment. He didn’t care. He lifted his bandaged hand from the sling, not caring that pain skyrocketed through his fingers and up his arm. He bent to look at his leg, the stent in his arm screaming as it moved. He pulled it out and worked on free his leg. He planted both feet on the ground, steadying himself as a wave of dizziness washed over him. 

Pull it together. He thought. This was weak. He was captured and needed to get out before they did any more experiments. It was his duty to his country to protect the secrets that ran through his blood. He couldn’t be weak at this moment. Captain America was not weak. He could not let down those that depended on him. 

He forced himself up. Glancing around he saw a bag with his name on it. It must be his things. He grabbed it with his good hand and walked to the door. 

Outside was not what he expected. He had expected either a hospital or a military hallway. Instead, it seemed pretty normal. Maybe like a corporation or something, but nothing screamed medical or sinister. 

What did scream however was his body. Particularly his leg. The short walk had brought back all the pain that had apparently been peacefully hiding before. No matter, he still needed to get out before anyone found him. 

He didn’t see anyone in the hallway at first. There were a few other doors, but they were closed. He was about halfway down the hallway, when he heard the first shouts. No doubt the heart monitor had tipped them off. He quickened his pace best he could. Even injured he was quick. There was an exit sign at the end. 

Steve emerged on the busy Manhattan street a few moments later. Things looked the same as when he last remembered being awake. So maybe he hadn’t been captured. It didn’t really matter. This was the last place he wanted to be. 

Steve was breathing heavily, feeling faint and his leg ready to collapse. He hailed a yellow taxi cab. At least this hasn’t changed. He thought. The cab pulled over alongside him. Steve opened the back and got in, completely unaware of the strange looks he received for still being in a medical robe. 

“Where too?” The man asked in a distinctly Indian accent. 

“Somewhere not here.” He said. The driver waited. Steve was ready to fall asleep again. “I don’t know. Some hotel. Queens?” He said again, frustrated. He needed to get away and didn’t want to be found. No one could know or see him like this. 

Tony. His heart sunk. Tony had seen him like this. Tony knew that he panicked and..and…he couldn’t think about it, his head filled with the haziness of exhaustion and pain. He pushed the thought away. 

He would worry about it later. If Tony could keep his mouth shut no one else would know. Once he got somewhere else, healed a bit no one would know that Captain America was just a fake boy from Brooklyn. 

The cab took off and wove its way through the streets, headed to some remote hotel in Queens. 

********

Tony Stark turned the corner of the hallway, carrying a cup of coffee and a small snack pack of chips. He was met with the commotion that swarmed around him, medical personal scurrying about, obviously worried. 

He wove his way through. “No need to get flustered. I know you missed me, but a man needs to eat, and frankly, the coffee in this place is a joke.” As he neared the door to Steve’s room he found it empty. 

“Oh, crap.”


	5. Chapter 5

Tony paced around his workshop. How had he lost Steve? Tony thought. He had only been gone a few minutes, just a few floors down. He knew Steve was a super solider with healing serum and all that, but there was no way the man was compactly healed in the time that he went to the deli. 

There was no way that a man in the condition he was in when Tony left was able to get himself out of the hospital quickly enough unless he ran. 

Tony winced at the idea of Steve lugging himself along on his leg. Steve really needed to be somewhere and rest, particularly after the second panic attack Tony had witnessed in the hospital. He felt guilty suddenly, knowing that some or most of that pain had been caused by his own carelessness in rescuing him. 

“Jarvis.” Said Tony. “Yes Sir?” Piped up Jarvis “Has there been any answer to the phone calls?” Tony asked. “None sir. I have called approximately every five minutes. There is no answer. In fact, some were sent to voicemail. It seemed that Captain Rogers is ignoring your calls.” 

********

Steve Rogers had checked himself into a hotel off the 278 freeway in Sunnyside Queens. Ironically the hotel was called Queens Hotel. Inventive. He thought as he paid for the room. 

The hotel was next to a large cemetery and his room afforded a spectacular view of the graves stretching along the hill. It was one of the few larges spaces of green nearby. It was fitting. Thought Steve. He really should be in a graveyard too and not a hotel, but life was strange that way. He had woken up from what he thought was his death. It was an Act of God one of the nurses had said to him. 

He didn’t really know how he felt about not dying. It was both a relief to know he wasn’t dead but also confusing. He had known that was his death and he survived. But he came back to a world that was as different and far away to him. New York was still the New York he had left in some ways, but in most ways, it wasn’t. Everything had changed. Some of it felt familiar, but overall there were a lot taller buildings. 

The architecture wasn’t the only thing that changed. It seemed that everything had changed in the time he had been frozen. Steve was constantly amazed. Half the things taken for granted now were things he had only read about in cheap science fiction magazines or comics as a kid. Hell, he was something out of a comic. 

Steve suddenly felt old and tired as he sat on the bed. Mostly he felt in pain. He had stopped at a small clothing store and had managed to find some sweats that would fit over his bandaged leg and a hoodie. It was something that was infinitely better than the hospital robe he had been wearing before. 

Groaning, he laid down on the bed. Allowing his body to relax for the first time in hours. He vaguely remembered the events leading up to the hospital. He had been caught under a crane and panics in the river. Obviously Tony had pulled him out. But then what? He had a few foggy memories of the jet. How had something as trivial as a crane even managed to hurt him so much? His thoughts drifted to the last few hours and waking up again. 

His eyes widened, mortified. He remembered the jet and the hospital. Both times he had overreacted to invisible water. He had acted like he was drowning in dry air and had been too weak to notice he wasn’t even drowning anymore? How many people had seen him? His thoughts were growing hazy and his eyelids were heavy and hard to keep open. He just wanted to sleep. 

No! He sat up. He needed to check his hand and leg before that. He had just walked out of a hospital. Sure, at that moment he thought it was Hydra or he was captured. But if he was honest with himself, he knew as soon as he got out that it wasn’t true. He had walked out of a perfectly normal medical facility and potentially harmed himself further, all because he was freaking out about nothing. 

Steve tried to sit up, but the wave of exhaustion rushed over him again, forcing him to lay down. Maybe it was better to stay here for a bit. He thought. It wasn’t long before he was asleep.

*********  
Steve wasn’t sure how long he slept when he woke up. It was dark outside. He rolled over, wincing. He dug around in the bag on the floor and pulled out his phone. It was a strange device, his phone. He was told that people went to space with a smaller computer than the one in his phone. He thought it was interesting, but he wasn’t really sure how any of it worked. 

No matter how many hours Steve spent on the internet (a concept he was still struggling to understand) he felt like he couldn’t catch up. Maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe Steve Rogers was really gone and all that remained was Captain America, the man who survived ice. 

When he had woke up, Shield tried to get him to talk to a shrink. Steve politely refused. He didn’t want to share his thoughts with anyone and be told he was damaged or broken or sad and missing home. He thought it was silly. Of course, he was sad and missing home. Everyone he had known was dead or almost dead. He didn’t need to talk to anyone about that. He already knew that. He didn’t need to have anyone’s pity. It was better that they only know Captain America, the man who brought down Hydra; at least he was told his last mission was the linchpin in their downfall. He had been given the address to the home where Peggy was living. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit her. He didn’t want to lose the version of her that was in his mind. 

No! It was better this way. No one needed to know just how much he missed the New York of Steve Rogers. 

Steve looked at his phone. The date read the next day. There were also 100 missed calls. They were all from Stark. There were also several text messages. He didn’t even bother to check. They would be from Stark as well. It looked like someone knew he left the hospital. But since the calls were only from Stark it looked like he hadn’t told anyone else. That was a relief at least. He was glad no-one had come to find him. He didn’t want to see anyone or explain what had happened. He would probably have to explain why he left the hospital.

Knowing the adult son of Howard Stark was by far one of the strangest things for Steve. He was about the same age as his father, but Steve disliked him way more. There was something unapproachable about the man. It was like he wore his armor all the time, and he always had to get his way. 

Steve set the phone back down. Physically he felt a little better. He was still sore but not in as much pain. It would probably take a few more days for the serum to work and to be healed enough to function again. However, he didn’t actually know the extent of his injuries. 

Curious, he sat up in bed. He pulled the front of his hooded sweatshirt up revealing his chiseled chest. He still felt detached from it, his whole body, even on a good day. It didn’t belong to him. 

His eyes surveyed his chest, taking notes of the range of brushes that painted his front. There were no open wounds or stitches, just a mess of purple and blues. 

Steve attempted to hold the sweatshirt up with his other arm as he touched various parts of his chest. He winced, but it wasn’t unbearable. The real question was how bad was his leg and hand? It had only been a few days since the mission with Stark, barely enough to heal halfway. 

He really wished he had been granted X-ray vision with the serum. Both his hand and leg were wrapped up pretty well and the idea of unwrapping them felt daunting. Maybe it would be better to wait a while longer. He thought. He wasn’t sure how he was going to wrap it back up once he got it undone. 

He wiggled his fingers inside the bandage. The pain was better than before. The same was true of his leg. It wasn’t pleasant, but he no longer felt like he was going to pass out. Maybe he could wait another day before he looked. 

The wave of exhaustion returned. Maybe taking another nap would be a good idea. Give his body time to continue healing. He’d just set an alarm so he didn’t sleep too long. As Steve tried to get his face lined up with the phone to unlock it he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. He had failed asleep before the phone unlocked and fell out of his limp hand, clattering on the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Things are only just starting.

Steve stood in the bathroom, examining his leg. It was a week since he had left the hospital and his leg was mostly healed. They had used dissolvable stitches. Steve only knew this because half of them were gone. There was still the dark bruise around where the pipe had torn through the skin, but the wound itself had fused back together and the pain was gone. His leg’s strength wasn’t completely back. It felt a little tired supporting him and it ached, but part of that had to do with him spending a week in bed. 

After a few days of walking and eventually running, it would be back to normal. As it was, he felt that he could run now if he wanted to. In some sense, he was glad he didn’t remember much about this injury. If he had to guess, a piece of the crane had lodged itself into his leg and was ripped from his flesh when he was freed by Tony, or when he was…drowning. Steve refused to use the word panic when he thought about his reaction. 

He was justified for reacting a bit off-color when drowning. If Tony hadn’t come Steve would have figured it out. He always did. However, how he acted on the plane and in the hospital was unjustified and unprofessional. It couldn’t happen again. As the leader of the Avengers, he needed to keep his cool and calm, particularly when around the people he was trying to save. 

Steve wasn’t sure why he had reacted that way. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in the water, or dangerous situations before. Sure he was uncomfortable with the idea of swimming. He hadn’t even really liked big open water before the serum or as a child. But the water itself wasn’t a problem. He’d showered since waking up from the ice without any problems. 

Turning his attention to his hand, Steve wasn’t as satisfied with the healing. He had taken the bandage off first in order to access and use his hands. However, what he found underneath was a mangled mess. He vaguely remembered it being crushed under the crane, but he didn't remember it being this bad. The fingers were bent in odd directions. It was obvious that the hand and fingers had been broken. When it was treated, pins had been used to hold the bones in place. But since the bones weren’t straight and his hand didn’t have much evidence left of the original injury Steve knew that it had healed in the incorrect position. 

When he had fled the hospital he had disrupted the pins holding the bones. Many of them fell out. Later he pulled the rest out. They weren’t doing anything now. He could still move the fingers, but they didn’t straighten fully or stretch widely. When he did anything, it felt tight. Just holding his hand up caused it to shake. Closing it was another matter. Anytime he moved it there was a dull throbbing. 

Steve didn’t have any emotions when he looked at it. It was entirely his fault. Due to his own panic and irresponsible behavior he had caused his own body to heal incorrectly. He deserved this deformity in response to his actions. If he had stayed calm and let the doctors care for him then he would have a fully functioning left hand. But instead, he fled. 

He had woken up alone again and had been scared. He had felt lonely. It might have been nice to have a familiar face when he woke. No! He pushed aside the thought that surfaced. It was better he had woken up alone. That way no one could witness his defective behavior. Besides, none of them liked him much anyway. Their absences only confirmed it. And a week later he was still alone. No one had come to find him. Sure there were tons of calls from Stark, but the guy could have tracked him down and found him by now. So obviously he didn’t care enough either. 

Steve was planning on going back to the tower at some point. He still had a job to do and he could do it without screwing up or letting anyone know that he was a failure. Steve felt tears in his eyes and was overwhelmed with a need to cry. His chest was tight, not panic tight, but sad tight. He knew this feeling. It was one too common with his childhood. It was one that had gotten him hurt p too many times. It was not allowed. Steve Rogers didn’t cry and neither did Captain America. 

*************************

It had been over a week. A week since Steve Rogers had walked out of the Shield Headquarters Medical Unit. A week since he had been injured and Tony had no idea where the man was. 

The week had been pretty bad for Tony as well. He was already having trouble sleeping after the Battle of New York, but now, sleep was almost impossible. He spent the time building or trying to track down the super-soldier. 

He had lied to everyone. He told Furry that Steve had taken some R and R away. That he had healed uncharacteristically fast and needed to escape the city. He told the staff not to worry. The serum worked quick. He had no idea how quickly the serum worked. His dad had always said it was magical, but Tony didn’t believe in magic. He believed in science. And science said there was no way a man in Steve’s condition was healthy. The problem was, Tony couldn’t find him, and he guessed that was because Steve wanted it that way. 

When Steve had agreed to move in, he made it clear that privacy was important. He watched as Tony put in safeguards on JARVIS so that when he was in his suite the computer wouldn’t be able to see him. He also had Tony remove any tracking devices Shield might have put in his phone and installed a GPS blocker. Steve didn’t know what any of these things were really, but Natasha had suggested to him and Steve trusted Natasha enough to agree. That meant that Tony had spent the week with Steve’s phone on speed dial, calling every few hours, hoping the man would pick up and wasn’t dead on the street somewhere. 

He had lied to the rest of the team as well. Tony didn’t know why he told them Steve was on vacation as well. He should have told them he had no idea where he was and they needed to find him. But anytime he came close to it, he remembered the look of shame in Steve’s eyes on the jet. He remembered the way the man had so efficiently shoved it away. That look haunted him. Tony couldn’t bring himself to tell the others what happened. He had hurt Steve and now he was missing. 

If only he had stayed in the hospital room with Steve? Tony thought. At least he could have been there when Steve woke up. At least then he could have had eyes on him, maybe track him.“Any idea about the mission briefing this afternoon?” A voice said. Tony pulled himself out of his thoughts to see Natasha in the kitchen with him. He hadn’t heard her come in. 

“Oh, no. No idea. Probably something boring.” He said. “Umm. I thought you had access to files you weren’t supposed to.” She said smiling. “Well, I do. Normally. I probably even have the ones for this. But I haven’t read them.” He said. He liked Natasha. He had liked her when they first met and before he knew who she was. There was something inherently trustworthy about her. Given her line of work before the Avengers that could prove fatal, depending on which side you met her on. 

“That’s too bad. I am hoping it's less interesting than the Aliens but more exciting than whatever that one you and Cap went on.” She said filling her glass up with water from the refrigerator. “Yeah. That one was really boring.” Said Tony. “Have you heard from him? He left from the hospital right?” She asked. Tony glanced up at her quickly. Did she know? “No. I haven’t. He’s probably enjoying the Florida sun or something. You know, after all that time in the ice.” Tony lied. “Lucky him. Anyway, see you at the briefing.” She said.  
“ Yeah, at the briefing.” He muttered. 

***************************************

As far as briefings go, it was normal and unexciting. What was different was the unexpected arrival of Steve. He timed it so he was in Shield Headquarters exactly one minute before the start. The goal was to give no one any time for questions. Instead, it seemed that everyone else was late. 

He had finally looked at his messages when he saw a new one from Shield. It was simply an alert that Director Furry had a mission for them. If Steve was going to make sure that everything was normal and no-one knew about him, he needed to play the part. And that meant going on missions. 

In preparation, Steve had made sure to stop and pick up some jogging gloves. He needed to cover his hand for the time being. On missions, he could wear his suit and at home, he could avoid people. But right now he needed gloves. 

He sat at the table for five minutes. Waiting. When everyone did finally arrive evident shock registered on their faces. First through the door was Natasha. She gave him a big smile. “Welcome back!” She said. She slid into one of the seats. Clint was right behind her and took the seat next to her. “How was Florida?” Natasha asked. “It was...I was in Queens.” Said Steve. “Strange. Tony said you were taking some time off in the sunshine state.” Natasha said. 

“I must have heard wrong.” Said Tony coming in. “Can’t always tell the difference between Queens and Florida.” Steve tried to study Tony’s face. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or curious. “Did you stop by here after a quick jog?” Tony asked, noting the sweatsuit and jogging gloves Steve was wearing. “Something like that.” Said Steve quickly putting his hand into the pocket of the hoodie. Both men avoid each other’s gaze. Steve was glad that Tony hadn’t seemed to tell anyone the truth of where he went. Bruce had come in quiet as usual and sat. 

“Well wherever you were, you did not get any sun.” Said Clint. He and Natasha laughed. “Oh, Clint, You never did finish telling me about what happened…” They were drowned out by a loud greeting. “Steven!” Shouted a large voice. Thor barreled into the room. It seemed he was back from wherever an Asgardian went. He came over to Steve and clapped his hand on his back. “It is good to see you.” He said, voice sincerity. The weight of Thor’s hand struck hard. Steve tried to smile. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Thor. He hardly knew him outside of the Invasion. But Thor seemed nice enough and had given Steve little reason to dislike him. 

“It's good to see you as well Thor.” Steve said. Thor took a seat next to him. “Now tell me. How has life been since my brother unleashed havoc?”

“A very good question Thor.” Said Nick Furry who had appeared in the room. “It would seem that someone got ahold of that Iron Man your brother sent in New Mexico. They blasted and disintegrated a local high school” 

“I’m offended that you’d call it that.” Said Tony. Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. Your Iron Men have caused enough trouble as it is. I don’t need any space Iron Men to get in the mix.” Said Furry cooly. 

“I apologize for Loki’s mess.” Said Thor, genuine upset in his voice.“I don’t need your apologies. I need you to clean it up.” Said Furry. “So a standard search and removal.” Said Steve. “Do we know who has it?” Furry flicked on a screen. “Some pretty heavy hitters in the Mexican Cartel.” He said. “I highly doubt they even know what to do with it.” 

“When do we head out?” Steve asked. He really hoped it was now.“Tomorrow. Go home and do your homework first.” Said Furry. 

The rest of the briefing was typical and uneventful. When it was concluded Steve didn’t immediately rise. Tony of course was the first one out. “Come!” Said Thor to Natasha and Clint. “ I want to try this pinball you have told me about.” When finally everyone had left, Steve got up. He took the elevator downstairs through the lobby.

“Do you want to tell me what this is?” He turned and was ambushed by Tony.


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you want to tell me what this is?” Tony said accosting Steve as he walked out of the elevator. “What what is?” Said Steve trying to walk past. Tony stood in the way. Steve stopped. 

“You. Currently Up. Walking. Fleeing the hospital? Any of that ring a bell?” Said Tony. Steve didn’t say anything. He had nothing to say to him. He tried to go around him, but Tony continued to walk in front. “Well then, do you want to tell me where you have been for the last week?” Tony demanded. “No, I don’t Stark.” Hissed Steve. He kept walking, pushing past him out the door of the building. 

All he wanted to do was sit down, but if he had to, he would walk all the way back to the tower. Otherwise Stark would just get in the cab with him. Hopefully, Stark would get the message or get tired and just get in his car or whatever he used to get around. “Would you please leave me alone?” Growled Steve as he noticed Stark followed him out of the building. 

“I don’t think I will.” Tony said matching pace with Steve. “There is no scenario in which you walked out of there like in that condition.” “There is no scenario in which this is any of your business.” Growled Steve. Stark was really getting on his nerves. “It kinda is.” Said Tony. 

Steve spun on him, coming to a full stop. “Look. I appreciate you pulling me out of the mess. I even appreciate you not telling anyone about the situation. But frankly, you, hovering, is getting on my nerves. I am fine.” Lied Steve, his voice icy. “Waltzing out of a hospital on a lacerated leg is not fine. How you acted on the plane, was not fine.” Barked Tony. 

“Well, it is for Captain America.” Snapped Steve. He took off walking again. “You aren’t Captain America, You are Steve with some stuff from a bottle,” Stark said. 

The words stung. Who was this guy to say that to him? Who were any of them? They acted as if they cared, but it was only for show. It was only for work. To them, he was Captain America, and as Stark had just made clear if they saw any other side of him, saw him as Steve, they saw him as the broken man who was saved my some stuff from a bottle. They didn’t really have any desire to actually know who he was. 

That reality was evident in that Stark hadn’t bothered to even tell anyone any of what really happened. Steve lied. Sure Stark had covered up for his situation on the plane, but they all thought he had a mild concussion or whatever Stark had told them, and thate he went on vacation! Steve's step started to falter. He was growing more tired. He gritted his teeth. If none of them wanted to know who he was then he wasn’t going to put in the work. He had woken from the ice and the world still needed saving, so that is what he was going to focus on. 

“Just tell me where you are going.” Said Stark, who was still keeping pace with him. “Why! So you can keep tabs on me? Well, you are in luck. I’m going back to your tower, where I live. Or did you forget?” He said. 

“Can I at least give you a ride?” Said Stark. Steve stopped. He let out a big sigh. He really wanted to say no. He really wanted to walk the short distance there. But honestly, he didn’t know if he could. And the last thing he wanted was Stark or anyone else for that matter to see how weak he was. “As long as you don’t say anything.” He said. 

“Deal.” Said Stark. He waved and the car that had been following them slowly pulled over. The ride back to the tower was painfully silent. Tony kept his word and didn’t say anything. He kept his nose buried in his cellphone. Steve looked out the window. It was all he could do from falling asleep. The last few hours out had been overly taxing. When they pulled up to the front of the Tower, Steve got out. “Are you coming?” He asked without looking. “Nah.” Said Tony. “Go ahead, I have a few calls to make and I’m already comfortable here.” 

Steve shut the door. “Wow. Grumpy much?” Tony said. “I wouldn’t know.” Said Happy from the front. “Do you want me to drive around a bit while you make calls?” He asked. 

“No, it's alright. I didn’t want to walk with him.” Tony said watching Steve from the window. The man was walking slowly into the building. He seemed tired. Tony couldn’t blame him. He had seen his injuries and any normal man would take a while to recover. Any normal man who hadn’t disappeared to Queens.

Tony felt responsible for him. If he had been more careful he could have prevented most of the injuries and Steve wouldn’t be acting like this. Steve reached the door. He held it open as a few people came out. Tony smiled. Even all the grumpiness couldn’t prevent Captain America from being kind. 

*********

Steve avoided the main room in the tower and made a B-Line to his suite. When he was inside, the door fully locked behind him did he finally breathe out a sigh of relief. Everything about the day had been exhausting and it was nice to be alone again. He walked over the couch. 

The suite was exactly how he had left them the day of the last mission. The decoration was space and basic. He didn’t own anything. He didn’t even know what he would buy. He’d never had money growing up and anything they had was saved for food. 

Now he had money and no idea what he would do with it. The suite was comfortable enough. It offered him an escape from the city and any of the other Avengers when they were around. He had enabled the computer system so that it wasn’t reporting on him to Tony. That had been part of the deal when he had moved in. 

Steve sat on the couch and allowed himself to rest. It felt nice. He peeled the gloves off his hands. They had been hot and sweaty all day, but it was worth it to keep people from asking. It wasn’t pleasant to look at. Most of the swelling had gone away and all that was left was twisted fingers and bruises. Even the marks where the doctor had cut, trying to realign was mostly gone now. His hand almost looked normal except it wasn’t. 

Steve got a strange rush of feeling when he thought about his hand. It was a mix of anger and disappointment. He was upset that something so trivial as a crane falling on him inflicts such damage. He had trapped in and moved things much heavier. This was entirely his fault and he deserved a mangled hand for his stupidity. 

Ever since he had woken up from the ice he had been off his game. The Battle of New York was only a few days after that and since there had only been a few missions and clean-up operations. Steve had thought he was just rusty, but now he knew that he was just weak, like before the serum. 

Steve decided to flip through the file that Furry had given them all. He might as well read up and formulate a plan for tomorrow. He was the leader of the Avengers after all. They would be counting on him to know the situation. 

Several hours went by and Steve didn’t notice. He was absorbed in deciphering the file and thinking out different ways to attack the problem. It was like a puzzle. He had always enjoyed puzzles. 

When he was finally done he realized it was late. Not too late, but late enough to feel hungry and hopefully late enough to avoid anyone in the kitchen. Stark had promised that when the tower was finished every suite would have its own kitchen. For now, there was a mini-fridge and a microwave. 

Normally he would just eat in his suite, but since he had been gone for almost two weeks there was nothing there. He had checked earlier to see if any of the food had gone bad and realized that he hadn’t even gone shopping before the last mission. 

Steve liked shopping, but he was a terrible cook. Normally it was fun to follow a recipe and see if he could figure it out. Tonight though, he would just have to go into the main kitchen and see what there was. Stark usually kept the place well stocked with things. 

Steve padded out of the suite. He avoided the elevator. The main floor was only one above him and the stairs would be quicker. 

The main room was dark, except for a light in the living room. As he got closer he could hear muffled voices. It sounded like Natasha and Thor. Carefully and quietly he slipped past the living and into the kitchen so that they didn’t notice him. 

He slowly worked his way to the refrigerator. Trying not to make a noise. He paused. The light would turn on when he opened it and possibly alert the others to his presence. As he paused his sharp hearing picked up the conversation between the two voices. 

“Honestly Natasha. It has been hard.” Said Thor. He didn’t sound like his normal booming existed self. There was an element of...sadness? Thought Steve. “I am filled with anger and grief in the same moment.” There was a moment of silence. Steve was uncomfortable with how raw Thor sounded. It was not like him. “ I miss my brother. Yet when I think about him all I am filled with rage."

“That is hard.” Natasha said. Steve decided he wasn’t hungry anymore. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on this very private conversation. He shouldn't be here. He would just grab a glass of water and leave. He opened the cabinet and reached for a glass with his left hand without thinking. No sooner had he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it out, did the glass slip from his hand and crash against the ground, breaking. 

Shit!. He said. 

“Hello?” Came Natasha’s voice. Steve looked around for something to clean it up with. He grabbed the paper towel roll and bent to gather up the pieces. 

The light flickered on. “Steve. Are you ok?” Natasha asked? Steve quickly tried to hide his left hand. “Yeah. Sorry.” He said. “I just dropped a cup.” Thor had followed behind Natasha, holding a broom and dustpan. 

“It is alright Steven. There were no lights.” 

“Yeah. I know.” Muttered Steve, his face felt hot. He was hesitant to take the broom from Thor. He didn’t want to pull his hand out of his pocket. Thor made no effort to offer him the broom either. He quickly made the distance between the two and began to sweep up the glass.   
“It’s alright. I can do it.” Said Steve. “Nonsense.” Said, Thor. “I have already halfway done it.” 

Steve stood awkwardly by and watched as Thor cleaned the flood. When it was cleaned Thor opened the fridge and grabbed two beers from it. He quickly removed the tops. “Would you like to join us?” He asked Steve. “Natasha and I are discussing life and its numerous hardships and joys.” He handed a beer and Natasha and offered the other one to Steve. 

“No thank you.” Said Steve. “ I think I’ll go to bed. The last thing we wanted to do right now was talk about feelings. He didn’t need to start telling everyone how he had panicked and passed out. That would only confirm to his team how weak he was and he was already on thin ice with Tony. He didn’t need Natasha or Thor feeling sorry for him too. “Of course. See you tomorrow Steven.” Said Thor. 

Steve walked out of the kitchen. Still a bit hungry. He’d have to do it until later. As he left he heard Natasha say. “That’s the most I’ve heard him speak in a long time.” Thor chuckled. “ Many words do not make a man. Now come. The night is young, but I must sleep. So let’s finish this beer.” Steve reached the stairwell and headed back up to his own suite.


	8. Chapter 8

The plane ride was bumpy. There was turbulence that day. Steve sat quietly by himself, looking down, focusing on the space between his feet...The jerky motion of the Quinjet was making him dizzy. 

He had been the first one ready. He’d woken up pretty early, unable to sleep. It worked out though because it took him a lot longer to get dressed than he’d planned. Working his almost healed, but still sore leg into the tight pants of his uniform would have been laughable if it wasn’t painful. His hand was another matter. Nothing wanted to bend or straighten. 

Forcing his fingers back into a glove was a challenge. He had never stopped to think how easy it was to spread your fingers and adjust a glove until he was prevented with the inability to do so. 

Suited up and ready he was left to wait for the others. He managed to actually get some food from the kitchen before anyone was up and met the team when it was time to board. 

They hit a particularly turbulent spot, the whole plane shooke. “You don’t look so hot,” Natasha said. Steve looked up. She was watching him. “I’m fine.” He said. “Just thinking through the plan.” He muttered, looking back down.

“Do you need to go through it again?” Clint asked. “We only did it five times in the first hour. But I could use a refresher.” He tried not to laugh at his own joke as Natasha shot him a look. “No. I am good.” Steve said. 

“Are you sure?” Said Clint. “Because you haven't stopped shaking your leg all day. The plane might not be so jerky if you did.” Steve looked down at his leg which was nervously tapping up and down on its own. He hadn’t noticed. “Sorry.” He said, his face feeling warm. He needed to pull it together. 

“Clint stop,” Natasha said. “He’s not causing turbulence.” She got up and walked over the Clint and gave him a play hit across the head. “I’m just being conversational. It's like a tomb back here.” Said Clint. 

A loud snore interrupted. They all looked over at the sleeping Thor. He had promptly heard the plan once and passed out. The only other member of the team to be with them was Stark. Dr. Banner had decided to stay home. He didn’t go on most missions. It was safer that way. 

“All of you kids need to keep it down or I am pulling over.” Said Tony who was in the pilot seat. “Seriously. It’s too loud.” He started laughing. Steve did his best to ignore the light banter around him. He needed to keep his strength focused on feeling alright. His team depended on it. 

************************

“Whoah! You alright there Steven?” Shouted Thor as Steve barely dodged a large rock. He stumbled backward and Thor caught him, righting him. “Thanks” Mumbled Steve. 

Two hours. 

They have spent two hours searching for this Asgardian Iron Man and for two hours they had been routed around a small town in New Mexico by rock blasting goons. They had finally got them cornered in an abandoned warehouse district. But that only meant that he had plenty of concrete to hurl at the Avengers. 

Steve blocked against another piece of rock, it smashing against his shield. He slid back against the weight, the shock vibrating through his arm. It should have been an easy one to miss but he couldn’t move fast enough. 

He slipped behind a smashed piece of building, next to Natasha. She looked at him. “What?” Steve snapped. “Nothing Cap. Calm down would you?” She said. Steve looked away. 

“How are they so good at throwing rocks?” Asked Clint through the com as he dodged another rock. He, like everyone, was having a hard time getting close enough to the building. 

“ Must be the combo of Alien Tech and sheer tenacity.” Said Tony. He was several feet up, searching for the “rock-throwing bad guys”, but his sensors couldn’t get a reading. They must have some kind of block device. 

“Does anyone have any idea how many there are?” Natasha said, taking cover again behind a piece of concrete. She poped out and shot into the broken building before ducking again to avoid the gunfire coming out from inside. 

“They have some sort of cloaking device,” Tony said. 

“We need to get inside.” Said Steve. “I’m starting to think they don’t want us to.” Remarked Tony. “You think?” Said Clint. “I thought this was supposed to be easy Steve?” Natasha yelled. “It was.” Grumbled Steve. 

The scouting work done by Shield had said a lightly guarded lab. They said nothing about Alien Tech. The plan had been to bust in, find the iron man and bust out. But here they were still stuck at the bust in part. 

“Thor, Stark, see if you can find a way in through the roof. We need to take out the weapon preventing us from disabling the shield.” Said Steve. “What do you think I’ve been doing Spangles?” Tony asked from above. “They have this place pretty well sealed up.” 

“I guess we should have brought Hulk.” Said Thor. He spun his hammer, shooting into the air. Steve was going to distract the front again. Maybe if he could direct the firepower to the front it would be long enough for Stark and Thor to find a way in. 

Steve felt tired. His leg and hand were starting to ache. He adjusted his shield, pulling it tight. He couldn’t hold the handle at all with his hand. The straps were the only thing holding it on his arm. He stood up and rushed toward the building. The world was spinning around him as he ran. 

“Man of Iron. Come. I think I found something.” Said Thor in the coms. Steve kept pushing forward, blocking gunfire. He was almost close enough to the building. If they could just find a way to dismantle the…

Another piece of concrete came flying at him. It was coming really fast. Steve slowed down, and came to a stop, bullets ricocheting off his uniform. He watched the rock, paralyzed. His brain couldn’t make his body move. There was a disconnect as he watched the rock coming closer.

He was shoved to the ground, landing hard. Looking up he saw Natasha on top of him. Steve pulled himself up, feeling faint. He swayed and caught himself, steadying himself. 

“Thanks.” He said. “You want to tell what that was?” Natasha said. “That was nothing.” He Steve. The world was still spinning as his heart pounded against his chest. “I’m fine.” Said Steve. 

Another piece of concrete hit the ground next to them. “How’s it looking?” Yelled Steve into the coms. 

“Calm down Buttercup.” Snarked Tony. “You calm down.” Yelled Steve. He could not handle Stark right now. “Okay, Okay, everyone…” Natasha began. There was a loud explosion from the building. “Found it.” Said Thor. 

“Shield is down.” Said Tony. “If everyone is done wining, shall we go in?” Asked Clint. “I personally don’t want Stark and Thor to have all the fun.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” Said Steve. The three of them made their way into the building where the gunshots had turned inward. Clint and Natasha entered first, Steve making sure they were covered from fire. 

His world was spinning faster than he could control now. He paused at the door, grasping the side to hold himself up. After a moment he took a few more steps and grabbed onto the wall again. 

The sounds around him were distorted and his surroundings were disorienting. Focus! He needed to pull it together. His team needed him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, making it hard to get a breath in. He kept inhaling, grasping for it. But the air just wouldn’t come. The walls started to close in around him, his vision going blurry. The ground beneath him was shifting as he held on to the wall, trying to remain upright. 

“Steven?” Said a deep calm voice. Steve couldn’t move. It was happening again. He was feeling hot, and cold at the same time. He was feeling like the air around him was escaping. He was drowning” Steven.” The voice said again. This time it was accompanied by a strong weight on his shoulder. 

It was grounding. The weight reminded him of his body. The world steadied momentarily. “Focus on me.” Said the voice. It belonged to Thor. Steve’s mind cleared a bit. He was standing against the wall, gripping it. Parts of the concrete were crumbling in his grasp. 

“Just take another breath,” Thor said again. Steve took a breath. It was tight and restricted but free enough that he didn’t feel like he was choking. He breathed again a second time. He felt his body relax when he exhaled. It relaxed too much and his legs weakened beneath him. He started to sink. Thor gripped him under the arm, catching him. 

Steve felt hot with Shame. He pushed himself away from Thor, his legs giving out again. 

“You keep doing this,” Thor said. “I’m good. We need to finish.” Steve protested. He tried to push himself away from Thor “No.” Said Thor firmly and not letting go of his grip. “You can barely stand.”

“No.” Said Steve. “ I need to help.” “It is done, Steven. There are just some mild cleanup and bad guy punching left.” Said, Thor. “I know. I am needed.” Protested Steve again. “No.” Said Thor. This time his tone was more gentle, soft. “It is okay Steve. Let the others finish up.” 

Steve felt his body sink, his weight heavy against Thor’s support. There it was. They didn’t need him. No one did. He was just a useless antique. “It seems you can finish.” Said Thor into the Com. “Steven is going back to the Quinjet with me. I hit my head and need his assistance.”

“Okay, Thor. Take it easy. We can mop this up.” Remarked Stark. There was some shouting in the background. “Tell Spangles I miss his voice. Its been a while since he yelled at me.” 

Thor adjusted his arm around Steve and started to walk back to the Quinjet. Steve pulled away again. “Seriously Thor, I’m fine.” Thor didn’t let go. “I told you I hit my head.” Said Thor, dragging him along. 

“No, you didn’t.” Said Steve. “You just made that you.”   
“You don’t know that.” Said, Thor. “Were you there?” He said, a small smile creeping across his face. 

Steve knew Thor was coddling him. Yet his body felt too tired to continue with the protest. And it wasn’t like the rest of the team needed him anyway. That had been made abundantly clear to him. “Besides. I need your company. I might get lost.” Said Thor. “This is ridiculous.” Muttered Steve. 

They walked back to the Quinjet. Halfway there Steve finally managed to work his way free from Thor’s dominating grasp. He refused to say anything else. If they didn’t need his help or his leadership they didn’t deserve his words.

Thor on the other hand lunched into a story that the day reminded him of. Steve tried to ignore it, but Thor had a way of telling stories that were enthralling. Perhaps it was because of the giants and elves and other things that were elements of fantasy on earth. 

When they reached the ship, Steve thought Thor would stop talking, but he continued, launching into another story, this time about his childhood and the mischief he had gotten into with his brother. 

Listening to Thor talk was soothing in its own way. Steve admired the way the Asgardian was so comfortable with talking about everything, 

It was about thirty minutes later when the rest of the team came walking up. They were chatting amongst themselves, dragging a box that was probably the Asgardian Iron Man. 

“How are you feeling Thor?” Asked Natasha. When they got onto the jet. “Much better.” Said Thor. “One rock too many fell on my head.” “That happened a long time ago.” Said Clint. Thor let out a large, full laugh. “Yes. Luckily Steven was there.” 

Steve sat quietly feeling guilty. He had failed out there. Multiple times he had stumbled and faltered. It could have gotten really bad if Thor hadn’t stepped in. It was lucky that the mission and situation hadn’t been worse or something bad could have happened. 

And now Thor was covering Steve’s failure for the team. He had seen Steve, incapable, frozen. That made two of them. Tony and Thor. They knew the truth about him. And for whatever reason they were keeping it to themselves, probably so they could use it against him later. 

How long before the rest of the figure out that he was just a fake? How long before they decided he was a liability to the team and asked him to leave. They would be nice about it. They would do it in a way they thought was helping him. 

Or even worse they would do it because they pitied him. He didn’t know which scared him more. Being seen with pity and as broken, just useless and kicked out? He had nowhere to go. These were the only people he knew in this century. They may not be close, but they were at least something, and they didn’t need him for anything. 

He watched as they exchanged words effortlessly. They didn’t really need him. Tony was always going on about how much Howard Stark had loved Captain America. It was just like his days in the army, people were only interested in the image of Captain America, soldier, patriot, and inspiration.

But no one was interested in Steve Rogers. Steve gritted his teeth as the Jet took off. There could no longer be a Steve Rogers. In the eyes of the world, Steve Rogers was no longer part of the equation. It was only Captain America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments guys. Seriously. It makes me smile every time I get an email. I love hearing what you have to say. :) 
> 
> The next chapter might be a bit late. I am out of town for a few days.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Self Harm

Following the mission, Steve kept to himself. For the better part of a week, he managed to keep away from everyone. He stayed out of the main room, taking the stairs to an unoccupied floor before hitting the elevator. He found a bunch of easy-to-make recipes and stocked his kitchen. Whatever he could do to avoid people he did. 

After their mission, Thor had proposed a night of drinking and celebrating. The Asgardians really enjoyed that part. Steve declined, claiming he had a headache. It was partly true. He still felt off from earlier and his shame couldn’t take another hour with the team and their sideways glances and worried looks. 

It was better to disappear a few days and get himself fixed before their next mission. He only had a short window to convince everyone that he wasn’t broken. 

He started every morning with a long run. He got up before it was light outside, to avoid people watching him. It was the only thing that seemed to be helping the constant tight feeling in his chest and throat. If he focused on the feeling or thought about it he lost control. 

He wanted to cry or hit something, and once, while alone thankfully, he had frozen again and struggled to breathe. He had only managed to pull himself back after staring at the wall and waiting. Eventually, it wore off. At first, he thought it was a feeling that happened when he was around water, but he had had showers before the first time under the crane, and since. The shower didn’t start them. 

According to the internet, he was experiencing panic attacks and anxiety, possibly depression, or maybe even a brain tumor. He stopped looking after that. He had a problem. And like all problems in his life he would either have to fix it or live with it. 

He had already started fixing his physical problems. His leg seemed healed at this point, so he would push himself physically. According to his own assessment, He was almost physical back to normal except for his hand, which no longer hurt, but had healed completely wrong

Steve stood in the bathroom staring at his extended hand, the slightly bent fingers quaking. He extended the fingers doing his best to straighten them. When he felt the strain against the skin he pushed further. The strength in his hand gave way and it relaxed involuntarily. 

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. He tried to make a fist, curling his fingers in. They only bent so far before they were tight and met with resistance. He put his right hand over his left, pushing his fingers other as he tightened. It would not go any further. He let go in disgust. His hand was completely useless. 

His grip was terrible. He could only hold things like cloth, something that had lots of surfaces to grip. Anything solid and smaller just slipped through his hands. He’d already broken two of his own cups, accidentally. 

Steve had come to loathe the look of his crippled hand. That’s what it made him, a cripple. For all the serum in the world, he had somehow managed to cripple himself in a stupid accident and his own reckless behavior after. 

Steve felt the tightness creeping up in his chest. His breath was getting stuck in this throat. He was losing control. He needed to go running. 

Five minutes later Steve was on the street. It was night. He took off and wound his way off the main avenue. There was a park a bit away from that he could go to and run in a circle, out of the way. He pushed himself faster, anything to get out of his head and fight the feeling of rising panic. 

It always started when he wasn’t expecting it. The only thing to prevent it was to run until he collapsed. Then hopefully he would be tired enough to pass out for a few hours and start it all over again the next day. Steve reached the park. He upped his speed, pushing. The tightness in his chest was soon replaced with the sharp breath of exercising.

Before the serum, he hated running. He couldn’t run. He had asthma and would run out of breath within a short period. He had been bullied for it, never being able to keep up with the other boys. When they grew tired of ignoring him in their game, they would instead chase him. It always ended with him being beaten up, bleeding, and unable to breathe. When he joined the army he still couldn’t keep up with the others. After the serum, however, Steve discovered freedom. 

Suddenly images of rushing water, crushing against broken glass and engulfing him flooded his mind. No! He thought. He couldn’t think of that. He needed to stay out of his head. Steve couldn’t tell anymore if the memories were from 1945 or 2012. They felt the same. 

He pushed himself faster, gaining speed. The park wasn’t very big, but round and round he went. He was stronger than Steve in the water. He was better than Steve was a crippled hand. He just had to make up for it with running. 

Steve’s breathing found a rhythm. He could do this. He could fix this. He just needed his body and mind to cooperate. His leg had healed fine. If he hadn’t been so upset his hand would be. His body had done its job, it had healed him, just in the wrong way. He just needed to let his body heal his hand again. 

Steve was no longer paying attention to where he was running. His feet were taking him along the familiar path back to the tower. His mind was focused on a single idea. He needed to heal his hand. His body could do it. It just needed help. 

Several minutes later Steve let himself back into his suite. It would be easy. All he needed to do was re-break the fingers and let his body and the serum do the rest. He couldn’t think about it. Just do it. 

Steve stopped in the kitchen, breathing hard, sweat covering his forehead. The clock on the microwave read 11:50 pm. He held out his shaking hand. It would be easy he told himself. All he had to do was grip a finger and snap. 

He grasped his index finger, moving it through his other hand, feeling for a grip. His heart pounded loudly in his ears and beating against his chest. You can do this Steve. He thought. It will only hurt for a moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Come on. He thought. Just snap it. 

He couldn’t do it. He opened his eyes, repulsed at himself and his weakness. It would take such little force and he was unable to do it. 

He grasped the rest off his fingers. Maybe he needed to do them all at once. It would feel good. He told himself. He would have the use of his hand again. He just needed to suck it up and break it. He tightened his grip, his pulse rising. On three. He thought. One, two, three. Nothing happened. He couldn’t do it. He let go of his hand, feeling nauseated at revolted at the same time. 

He was a defective and pathetic example of a soldier. If he couldn’t fix a problem this simple, take a little bit of pain, then he was going to absolutely find himself in a situation where he let someone down. Steve started pacing. He needed this to happen. He wished he could get drunk. Then this would be easier. He needed something to do for him, not rely on his own faulty will. 

Stark’s workshop. There had to be something there; something heavy. A surreal calmness came over Steve. A razor-sharp thought was solid in his mind. Everything else was pushed aside. He needed to get to Stark’s workshop. 

Steve approached the door to the workshop. The lights were in night mode, half dimmed, except for the back corner. It looked empty. Steve came to the door. It was unlocked. Without thinking what that meant Steve pushed it open and went into the workshop. 

Inside was an array of machines and devices. Steve was only seeing in tunnel vision. He scanned the room, looking for anything that would work. His heart was beating quicker. He needed to fix this situation. He kept thinking, over and over again. 

Urgently he searched one of the workstations. Mostly it was bits of computer pieces. He staggered over to another table, desperately searching. His eyes landed on a mallet. It was like it was calling to him. Begging him to pick it up. 

He held it in his hand. It was perfect. He laid out his hand on the cold metal table and spread out his fingers. He brought them together again. Deciding which way they would be easier to break. Steve held the mallet up and took a breath. Exhaling he brought it down.

The mallet slammed into his hand, striking the exposed fingers. There was a sickening crack as a few of the bones broke beneath the weight. He let out a noise as excruciating pain swelled up and enveloped his hand and arm. 

He hardly noticed. It felt like a release. It felt good. It was as if the pain he had felt the last few weeks was oozing out of his body like the pool of blood surrounding his hand. He needed to do it again. It was working. He raised the hammer again. 

“Steve?” Came a voice behind him. Steves startled at the noise. He spun around hammer still in hand, and was face to face with Tony Stark, worry splashed crossed his face.   
“What are you doing here?” Demanded Steve. He was annoyed that he had been interrupted. “I might ask you the same thing?” Said Tony. “It is my workshop and it is 1 am.” 

Steve kept his hand behind his back, hidden. He couldn’t think straight. Now that he was interrupted the full pain of his hand was returning. “I couldn’t sleep.” He lied. 

“And so you broke into my workshop to make something?” Asked Tony. “The door was open. I needed a hammer.” Said Steve, not letting go of the hammer. 

“I see that. It's not a convincing story.” Tony took a step forward. Steve hastily backed up the small foot, hitting the table. The hammer was shaking in his hand. His whole body was shaking, he felt like he was standing on sand and it was shifting beneath him. He felt like the world around him was crumbling. 

“I said I needed a hammer. Sorry I didn’t ask.” Growled Steve. He turned back around and set the mallet down. He used his sleeve to quickly wipe the blood from the table before trying to hide his now broken and bleeding hand against himself.

“I get needing a hammer this late. But what I don’t understand is why you didn’t get one of the many hammers that are all over the place. There are two in the kitchen alone. ” Why hadn’t he thought of that Steve thought. It would have been a lot less conspicuous than this. “And why are you acting like you are hiding something?” Said Tony. 

Steve spun around. “I couldn’t sleep. I wandered in here. I’m sorry. Happy?” Snapped Steve. He started walking away from the table. 

“It’s still a terrible lie.” Said Tony. “Well, it’s all you are getting.” Said Steve as he walked by Tony. Tony stepped in front of him, blocking him. 

“Seriously! What is your problem?” Growled Steve, glaring at Tony. “I should be asking you the same thing.” Said Tony. “It's none of your business.” Snapped Steve.”As a member of a team, and in my house I think I have a right to know.” Said Tony. 

“No. No, you don’t.” Yelled Steve. “You forfeited that right when you left me to wake up alone in a strange hospital. You proved that when you didn’t bother to find me and when you told everyone I had been on vacation? Instead of nearly drowned!” Steve stopped. He had said too much. He didn’t need Tony feeling pity for him. 

“Me? You left the hospital. You didn’t answer the phone. You have tracking blocked.” 

“Is that your excuse? You have all this expensive Equipment and you couldn’t even be bothered to look for me.” Scoffed Steve. 

“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be found.” Said Tony. 

“Unbelievable.” 

“What was I supposed to tell people? That you were running around Manhattan in a hospital gown? That would have gone over well.”Said Tony. Steve pushed past Tony.“For you or for me?” He muttered.   
Tony reached out to stop him. Steve stopped his hand with his right forearm. “Don’t.” He said. Shoving Tony aside he walked away. 

“What is this?” Said Tony seeing the blood on his hand. Steve didn’t say anything. He kept walking. “Steve.” Said Tony. His voice was cold. “Why are you bleeding?” He asked. 

Steve didn’t turn around. There was a silent pause. Steve hesitated. He had expected more of a fight from Tony. He glanced backward and saw Tony staring at him, repulsion on his face. 

“What happened to your hand?” He asked. Steve looked down at his hand, still held against his chest. When he had blocked Tony’s hand he had uncovered it. “You haven't been using that hand at all.” Said Tony. 

“Just stop it.” Yelled Steve. God, he was sick of people prying into his life. Ever since he had woken up people were constantly picking and prying about how he felt and what he thought. He just wanted to be alone. “I’m fine. I know how to take care of myself.” 

“Walking around bleeding is not…” Steve stormed back over to Tony. “No. Just no. No advice. No sarcastic comments. Just no. Do not tell anyone about this. It will heal.” Steve said, his voice low. “You’re bleeding on my floor.” Steve started at Tony, hated in his eyes. He stormed out of the workshop. 

He had screwed up. Tony saw. Tony knew and Tony would tell the team. Steve knew that for sure. And then they would all know everything about him. They would try to help but then they would grow tired. He needed to leave. 

**************

Tony watched as Steve stormed out of his workshop, leaving a trail of blood behind him. When Steve was gone he turned to the table he had found Steve at. In the dim light, he saw what he hadn’t before, a smeared layer of blood wiped across it. Dread filled Tony at the sight. “JARVIS?” He said. “Replay the security footage from Steve Roger’s entry.” “Yes Sir, playing.” Said JARVIS. 

Tony watched as a replay of Steve dug around in his tools and found the mallet. Horror set in as Tony realized what was happening. He didn’t want to continue watching, watching what he knew was coming, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. He needed to be confirmed. Tony watched as Steve brought the hammer up and down. 

“JARVIS! He yelled, his voice wavering. “Yes sir?” Came the computer. “I need you to wake the team. Make sure that Steve can’t leave.” Tony said before rushing out of the workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a rough chapter. Maybe things will start getting better, but maybe not. Would love to hear your thoughts. Have a great Tuesday!


End file.
